


Now the Kingdom comes

by Crazy_Dumpling



Category: Watchmen (2009)
Genre: Community: help_japan, Dark, M/M, Non Consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-17
Updated: 2011-04-17
Packaged: 2017-10-18 09:25:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/187417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazy_Dumpling/pseuds/Crazy_Dumpling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of the world's salvation, Adrian offers Dan a chance to put himself back together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For the amazing [](http://yanagoya.livejournal.com/profile)[**yanagoya**](http://yanagoya.livejournal.com/) , who was a winner in my[](http://help-japan.livejournal.com/profile)[ **help_japan**](http://help-japan.livejournal.com/) auction. She requested Adrian/Dan dubcon and it's completely my fault that this turned into a bit of a monster fic.

> I must also have a dark side if I am to be whole.  
> \- Carl Jung

Dan supposes he shouldn’t be so disturbed by his decision. After all the chaos of the past year, he should have expected that something like this would cause his already brittle self-confidence to crumble and blow away in the wind. He stares up at the gleaming structure that is Veidt Towers and feels a chill of dread settle in his stomach.

Laurie left him about a month ago. He’d been expecting it for a long time, if he’s honest with himself, but the actual event of her packing up her things, and of having to call her a taxi still shocked him more than he thought it would. He knows that the secret knowledge that they both carry had driven an invisible wedge between them, splintering them apart even as they grinned and tried to pretend that nothing was wrong. Strained smiles and hurried lovemaking had begun to replace their earlier passion and good nature, and even when Laurie held him in her arms after sex, there was that faraway look in her eyes, as if she was still trying to make sense of the world around her. He’d become forgetful and easily distracted, which wasn’t good when they decided to try vigilante work again. She’d had to rescue him once from a gang of thugs who blindsided Dan with a can of mace and a length of chain, and it hadn’t been pretty. Dan had worn bruises the size of dinner plates underneath his shirt for a month, while Laurie gazed at him as though he was a stranger to her.

The end of him and her had started with Dan tossing and turning in bed, unable to find a comfortable position to drift off to sleep in. Sometimes it took over an hour, and what sleep came was often light and fitful. It was always worse after he and Laurie had made love, however, and Dan would often feel insanely jealous of the way Laurie was able to fall asleep so easily after their exertions, her hair a dark halo around her head. The problem, though, was not the insomnia. That had gone away, eventually, probably because Dan was often so tired he would sleepwalk around his home for most of the day, often having to repeat menial tasks over and over again because his attention would wander.

The last straw, though, had come one rainy night, when lightning flashed in the darkness and illuminated the ghastly skeleton of New York, with all its gaping holes where buildings had once stood. Dan had fallen asleep and soon, started screaming. Laurie had to shake him frantically to wake him up, and it’s a lucky thing the walls in Dan’s brownstone are so thick, because he would surely have roused the neighbours with the volume of his yelling. She told him he repeated a name, just the one name, in his delirium. It wasn’t hers. And it wasn’t Rorschach’s, either, which surprised Dan.

The nightmares had continued after that. One night after another of Dan waking to Laurie’s increasingly harried expression and a feeling like he’d been drowning and just managed to surface for air at the right time.

“You’re calling out for _him_.” Laurie had said the day she left, while she was packing haphazardly, just slinging balled-up clothes into her suitcase, her expression troubled. She hadn’t needed to say who she was referring to. “It’s creepy, Dan. It sounds as though you’re begging him to save you. Like you need him for something.”

She refused to say any more, just gave him a hug and a soft kiss on his forehead and left him a number where he could reach her. Dan was grateful that they hadn’t ended things on a bad note, but still doesn’t understand how things managed to fall apart so spectacularly.

“That’s why you’re leaving?” He’d asked, as the taxi pulled up at the house.

“No, Dan.” She flashed him a smile as he helped her with her bags. “I’m leaving because I think we both know we need some time apart from each other. We’ve gone through a lot recently; maybe a bit too much. I need to talk to my mom, and you… you need to work things out with him. God help me, I think you both need to work things out.”

With that, she left, slamming the taxi door shut and driving off in a plume of blue-tinged smoke. Dan watched her leave and felt like he’d been cut adrift. He still loved her — he knew he always would — but he was disturbed by her last words. Talk to _him_? The man who had brought this hell to their lives? Who had inadvertently helped Dan regain his self-worth and then just as quickly crushed it again? The man who had killed millions of people, just to make sure world powers would play by his rules? Him? Adrian Veidt?

Surely there’s nothing left for them to say. The last time they’d seen each other, Adrian had been standing amongst the broken glass of Karnak, bloodied and bruised by the beating Dan had given him (though only because he had allowed it), and Dan had been the moral victor then. But now, to go back? To admit that he’s falling apart again because he has to keep Veidt’s dirty little secret from the rest of the world? Adrian now is even more powerful than he was before he triggered his Manhattan bomb. Veidt Enterprises has invested heavily in helping to develop new and important technology for both the construction industry as well as discovering safe and sustainable new sources of energy. And in the wake of last year’s disaster, Veidt Enterprises has also become the largest player in the reconstruction of New York. Adrian’s face graces every magazine cover and at least five major newspapers syndicate his weekly column. His presence at any one of the many high society fundraising dinners is hotly sought after, though it is common knowledge that he refuses all invitations.

Against all this, Dan feels like he must look like the biggest fool, dragging his ass back here and abandoning the sanctity of his moral high ground. He doesn’t even know why he came all this way without an idea of what to do when he actually arrived at Veidt Towers. But he takes a deep breath and goes in through the double doors, which are opened smartly for him by two men in purple and gold uniforms.

There are conducted tours that take tourists and wide-eyed students around the building, showing off Veidt Enterprises’ investments in new sources of energy and its efforts in the rebuilding of New York and the other cities around the world that were devastated by Adrian’s plan for a united earth, so there are always groups of people milling about in the building’s grand foyer at any given moment.

On an impulse Dan joins a group led by a perky brunette who is much too thin to be healthy. She leads them up to the first floor and screens a video for them, detailing Adrian Veidt’s amazing rise to power. Afterwards they get the official version of how Adrian is helping to shape the new world he has created around them, draped in the rhetoric of philanthropism and universal brotherhood. The tour takes in a few of the research labs below street level (though they are only ever shown rooms from behind the safety of a glass barrier) and the planning offices that house some of Veidt Enterprise’s best architects and city planners.

Then, of course, it is time to meet the man himself. In some kind of ugly twist of fate, Dan seems to have joined the afternoon tour which has been singled out by Adrian to be the recipient of some personal attention. They ride an elevator decorated with sphinxes and pyramids to the top of Veidt Towers and mill about in the gigantic lobby, taking in a view of the city that seems to stretch on forever, while Veidt finishes talking to some people from a new company that wants Adrian to invest in their work trying to stabilise ice shelves in Antarctica, since he knows so much about the terrain there.

“I’ll be sure to give your proposal my fullest consideration,” Adrian is telling a harried-looking young man in an ill-fitting suit and crooked tie, just as the doors to his office open. He is dressed immaculately, as always, a dark purple shirt and suit jacket over a pale gold tie, his eyes bright and clear and confident, and free of the dark circles that ring Dan’s. A pat on the back sends the young man away and he takes in the tour group, which is made up of a smattering of grandparents with their noisy grandchildren, a clutch of Japanese tourists, a few high school students… and Dan. His eyes flicker over each individual, lingering for a few brief seconds to fully allow the person to believe that they’re on the receiving end of his undivided attention before landing on Dan. A barely noticeable quirk of his lips is the only indication he gives of recognition.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I welcome you personally to Veidt Towers!” He says, opening his arms in a wide, expansive sweep. “I trust you’ve had an entertaining afternoon. I must thank each and every one of you for coming here today in order to learn more about the ways in which Veidt Enterprises is supporting those unfortunate enough to have lost so much in the recent destruction perpetrated by Doctor Manhattan. It is our goal, of course, to provide the tools with which people will be able to take back control of their lives, so that we can all work towards a better future together. The ground here may have been scorched, but if history has taught us anything at all, it is that where there is a will, cities and civilisation can always be rebuilt and reborn.”

He looks Dan in the eye as he says this, blue eyes flashing with the utter conviction of his belief, and Dan feels sick. He wants to turn around and get into an elevator and leave Adrian’s golden world behind him as fast as he can, with its false origins and disturbing vision of a utopian future. But he can’t; he just stays where he is, rooted to the spot, as Adrian delivers his spiel on wanting to make the world a better place and how he would appreciate the help of good people like the tour group in being aware of the products they buy and what decisions they make regarding which charitable causes to donate to. It’s enough to make Dan’s stomach turn.

At length, however, Adrian stops talking and motions to his personal assistant to hand out complimentary samples of his new fragrance, Millenium, which he says is just about to be launched. The tour group titters happily, many of the teenagers excited simply by their proximity to the man whose face they have seen so much on magazine covers and newspapers and television screens. The smiling assistant, who is young and blonde and beautiful, smiles sunnily as he drops the box containing the perfume into Dan’s hands. Dan resists the urge to let it fall to the ground and break onto the stainless black marble that lines the floor here. Instead he smiles weakly and tries to ignore Adrian’s stare as he shuffles along with the rest of the group into the elevator.

Strangely enough, Adrian doesn’t stop him. Not immediately. The tour concludes back where it began, in the foyer of Veidt Enterprises. The tour guide says she hopes everyone had a good time today and thank you for coming, and wasn’t it great that Mr Veidt came over to say hello, then waves brightly as the group goes its separate ways. Just as Dan’s about to leave the building, his head spinning with disbelief at his actions and Adrian’s words, an anonymous power-suited worker comes over and taps on his shoulder.

“Mr Dreiberg?” As Dan turns the man jumps back a little, like he was expecting Dan to be some kind of psychopath just come in off the streets. “Mr Veidt’s asked you to come up to his office before you leave today, sir.”

And though his gut is telling him that it’s the wrong thing to do, Dan follows the man, who leads him to a smaller side elevator, discreetly concealed behind the reception desk. There is only one button, marked with a stylised Egyptian eye motif. The flunky enters a code in the keypad next to the button and then presses it. It lights up an eerie yellow in the dim light of the elevator.

“See you later, Mr Dreiberg.” He says, just as the doors close.

“Not if I see you first.” Dan replies, even as the elevator starts its rapid ascent.

Adrian is waiting for him when the elevator doors slide open on the penthouse level, some thirty floors up. He’s shucked off his jacket and pushed up his shirt sleeves, though his tie is still immaculately knotted.

“I wondered when you’d turn up.”

“Keep wondering,” Dan snarls. Tosses the box of Millenium at Adrian, who catches it neatly with one hand. “I just wanted to return this.”

Adrian doesn’t say anything for a beat. Just sets the box on the massive desk that occupies the centre of the room. A light drizzle has begun to fall outside, and Dan can see the grey clouds drifting in as the storm approaches.

“How did you know I’d come back here anyway?” Dan asks, after the silence starts to irk him. Adrian probably knew that it would. “Did you send your psych evaluation team to check me out or something?”

“Daniel, please.” Adrian fixes him with a cold glare, as if to imply that he’s disappointed in Dan’s powers of deduction. “I don’t need a troop of psychologists to know every part of you intimately.”

His voice drops on the last word and Dan flushes at the unexpected double entendre.

“Now, Dan. Do you want to explain to me why it is you came and stood in the lobby here for about an hour before you decided to join the tour? Or shall I tell you?” Adrian strides behind his desk and sits down in a chair that cradles every line of his well-honed body as if it was tailor-made for that purpose, which it probably was. He gestures at the pile of papers covering the desk and Dan can see the jotted, precise notes that adorn each document. Adrian was never one to forgo the details. “As you can see, Daniel, I’m very busy right now. There are more lives to be saved. My work to better the human condition is never over. Now either you can admit that you came here for my help, or you can leave. The choice is really quite simple.”

“Your… your _help_?” Dan is incensed. “I -”

“You don’t want, or need my help, Dan? Is that what you’re about to say?” Adrian picks up a piece of paper, scrutinises the graphs and figures on it. “Spare me; you’re obviously experiencing a severe form of survivor’s guilt, no doubt amplified by the fact that you feel somehow responsible for the fact that the truth of what happened at Karnak never left the Arctic. I see from the circles under your eyes that you aren’t sleeping, though you haven’t put on any extra weight. That means you’re trying to distract yourself from your problems instead of considering the reasons for their existence. Now, to work out your frustration, you’ve probably started to tackle the problem of the inner city gangs, but the fact that you’re favouring the left side of your body tells me that you haven’t had a partner to back you up in skirmishes. Laurie’s left, hasn’t she, Dan?”

Dan’s mouth drops open. Adrian’s always liked to give little displays of his genius mind, but to have his problems laid out so logically and precisely is still disturbing.

“I don’t have time to help you today,” Adrian is saying, as he flicks over the paper in his hand, makes a few notes. “But come back tonight and we can try and work through your insomnia.” Then he cocks his head to one side, regards Dan with an assessing look. “No, wait. It’s not insomnia, is it, Dan? You’re having night terrors, aren’t you?”

Dan knows better than to ask how Adrian knows. He just sets his jaw and tries to ignore the desperate part of him that perversely wants to beg for Adrian’s help. But it is true; the nightmares have gotten worse recently. He dreams of ash falling from the sky, so thick that it blots out the sun and buries him. It burns his skin and finds its way into his mouth and nose, choking him as he screams for help. Then, just as he’s sure he’s about to pass out from the lack of air, a hand reaches down, pulls him out of the sea of ash. And he is sure that it is Jon. Miraculous, impossible Jon. But it isn’t. Dan can never see his rescuer’s face, but as he stares at Adrian now, a creeping sense of horror worms its way into his belly.

“No…” he mutters. “No, Adrian. I’m not coming back here. I don’t need your help, or your pity. I might not know why I came here, but I know that it was a stupid idea to let you try and get inside my head again. God damn it, don’t you realise how much you twist everything you touch??”

“ _Try_ and get in your head, Dan?” A small smile plays on Adrian’s lips. “I don’t think I had to try very hard at all, did I?”

And with that Dan storms to the elevator, presses the call button, feeling desperately relieved when the doors slide open immediately.

Adrian’s voice follows him into the elevator as the doors slide shut.

“Sooner or later, Dan, you’re going to admit to whatever it is you don’t want me to find out about.”

The dreams he has that night are even worse when Dan finally gets to sleep.  


~

For the next few days, Dan doesn’t leave the house. He orders pizza and cheap Chinese and works on Archie during the day, tinkering with the ship’s engine and trying to upgrade Archie’s thrusters with a small short-wave radio blaring football scores at him while he works. It’s good, honest work, and Dan allows himself to get lost in the technical detail of it all, content to think of nothing more complicated than power couplings and what spare parts will need ordering.

It works, mostly.

What he hasn’t counted on is that his nightmares are steadily growing worse. Each night the sensation of drowning becomes more intense and Dan finds it increasingly difficult to wake up. When he does he notices his throat is raw and realises he must be screaming in his sleep. Again. He thinks about soundproofing the bedroom, but stalks to the corner drugstore one day and picks up a bottle of generic sleeping pills. He doesn’t think they’ll be much use, though he slides his money over the counter anyway, hungry for any possibility of getting his sleep cycle back to normal.

It feels like there are demons in his head. They hiss and cackle at him in the depths of the night, winding their way into his dreams. The ash chokes him again and this time he thinks he really might sink under the unbearable weight of it all, but just at the last minute, the hand that grasps his feels unbelievably real, and Dan holds on to it gratefully, sobbing with stupid relief as it lifts him up out of the mire of ash that has become wet and mixed with blood. There is a river of blood at his feet.

“Dan,” a voice says from somewhere, and Dan spins around to meet his saviour.

Adrian looms large in his vision, looking otherworldly and beautiful and he opens his arms wide, ready to embrace him.

“No,” Dan whispers, horrified. But he finds himself moving forward, arms stretched out, ready to meet Adrian halfway.

He wakes suddenly in sweaty, tangled sheets, with the beginnings of a headache that claws pain at the back of his eyeballs. The red glow of his bedside clock tells him that it is only two a.m., barely three hours since he decided to try and sleep. The two bitter pills he swallowed before seem not to have any effect and after tossing and turning for a further twenty minutes, Dan gives up.

On some impulse he leaves the warmth of his bed and pads down to the basement, his bare feet slapping against the cold floor. In the dim light, he finds his way by touch more than sight, until he’s standing in front of his Nite Owl costume gallery, trapped in the glow of a single light bulb. Before he knows it, he’s suiting up, pulling on the pieces of his costume almost by reflex. It feels as though he’s putting parts of himself back together and his movements become faster and more assured. Then he slips his goggles on and the world snaps into sharp focus.

Dan releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Looks at the bulk of Archie standing silent in the docking bay and feels the pull of the night sky more keenly than he has in a long time. It takes barely any time at all to run through the pre-flight checks and soon he’s rushing through the night air and Archie is running even more smoothly thanks to Dan’s upgrades. It’s almost as if he’s escaping some choking prison, and Dan almost whoops with the exhilaration of it all as he performs barrel-rolls and sharp, sudden turns, staring down at the slumbering city below him, with its myriad sparkling lights. Even the reconstruction zone is lit up, with night crews working with giant floodlights so that the surrounding environment is as bright as day.

After a cursory scan of the police radio, just to make sure there isn’t a situation that needs his attention — the police seem to be coping quite capably, actually — Dan flies Archie through the cloud layer aimlessly, simply taking in the view around him. It’s more relaxing than he thought it would be, and soon he feels his eyelids begin to grow heavy. When the imposing bulk of Veidt Towers looms suddenly in front of him, however, it seems like a good time as any to turn around and go home, putting the past behind him.

Below him, the inhabitants of New York sleep on, unaware of the silent ship flying above them and its pilot, who holds too many secrets he would rather be rid of.  



	2. Chapter 2

There’s somebody waiting for him when he gets back. Adrian is in his Ozymandias suit and watches impassively as Dan lands Archie back in his specially constructed dock. Dan’s newly restored equilibrium nearly cracks but he manages to run through the shut-down cycle and switch off the engines, mechanically going through each procedure in order to collect his scattered thoughts.

What in all hell is Adrian Veidt doing here?

Really, the answer seems obvious and the headache which had been so successfully kept away during most of Dan’s midnight flight returns to throb dully in his temples as he pushes open the entry hatch.

“I thought you might be gone even longer.” Adrian says, by way of greeting. His blonde hair shines dully in the viewfinder of Dan’s goggles. “You’ve done a good job making your ship invisible, I must say. I thought I saw you from the penthouse, but I was only able to confirm your identity after I used a telescope.”

And Dan racks his brain for something, anything to say to that, but only comes up with, “The view wasn’t everything I expected it to be.”

Adrian nods. “Of course, that is because our reconstruction isn’t even halfway through. It will take another year to stabilise the ground, at least. And then we can start to rebuild everything that was lost.”

“You mean everything you destroyed to build your perfect world,” Dan interjects. “Why are you here, Adrian?”

He doesn’t even bother asking how Adrian managed to get past the various security features he installed in this place. If Adrian Veidt wants anything in this world, it seems, he’s going to get it. Even a superhuman like Jon couldn’t stand in his way, so what chance does Dan have, really?

“What I want, Dan?” Adrian smirks, and Dan begins to feel an irrational panic begin to grow in his chest. “I didn’t come here for myself. Well, not exactly. I’m here because you need my help.”

He’s circling Archie now, coming towards Dan with a vicious glint in his eyes and Dan swallows nervously. He backs up, taking slow steps behind him, being careful not to break eye contact, as if Adrian is some dangerously wild tiger. This apparently, amuses Adrian more than anything and he smiles, white teeth flashing in the darkness.

“What do you think you are going to do, Daniel?” His voice is low. “Run away from me, in your own home? Wouldn’t you rather find out the reason why you’re not sleeping properly?”

“I don’t need your help!” Dan hisses, moving backwards a little too slowly this time, the combined shock of finding Adrian here and his lack of sleep making him clumsy. His back connects with the cold brick lining of the escape tunnel and Dan realises with a start that he’s trapped because Adrian is advancing and the only way out is through him. And he’s tried that before.

Still, though.

Dan surges forward and tries to catch Adrian off-guard for long enough to use one of the weapons on his utility belt, but Adrian is fast. Much too fast. A quick blow to his sternum knocks the breath out of Dan and forces him back. Another quick flick of Adrian’s wrist unclips the belt and knocks it away. Dan tries a feint to the side, followed by an uppercut, but Adrian catches the blow before it lands and throws Dan up against the wall, pressing his body against Dan’s to hold him there. Dan’s teeth shake with the violence of the impact.

“Are we done, now?” Adrian asks, sounding barely out of breath. Though Dan is bulkier, Adrian has no problems keeping him where he is. Dan curses and struggles when Adrian reaches up and presses the catch on the side of his goggles, pulling them off and depriving Dan of his sight. “Shall I begin?”

“No!” Again, Dan struggles futilely against Adrian, notices with growing horror that the sensation of being held down is causing heat to pool in his belly, almost as if — no, this _cannot_ be happening — he is becoming aroused by the contact. He tries to ignore it, but the warmth of Adrian’s knee pressed against his inner thigh is playing the same kind of havoc with his senses. “Adrian, please!”

“Be quiet.” Adrian tells him. He turns his head, his breath brushing Dan’s ear. “Do you know why you need me, Dan? Why nothing in your life seems to be working right now?”

Dan can’t see much now that his goggles are gone. He can make out the fuzzy silhouette of Archie in front of him and wishes he’d stayed out later. “Adrian, will you just let me go, please?”

“Daniel. Don’t you want to know why nothing works?” Adrian repeats, as if Dan hadn’t interrupted. “Don’t you understand why you’re having the nightmares? Why Laurel wouldn’t stay with you?”

The knee at his thigh shifts and Dan can’t help but gasp as it nudges his legs further apart, Adrian’s weight holding him down despite his frantic movements to get away.

“You need me, Dan. You need me to make sense of this new world for you.”

And though he wants to deny it, the words stick half-formed in Dan’s throat. Adrian takes advantage of his shock and licks at the fleshy lobe of Dan’s ear, then takes it between his teeth. He bites down and Dan arches up against him, gripping at his shoulders to try and push him away.

“No, no, Adrian. Adrian, you _fucking_ bastard. Stop!”

But Adrian doesn’t heed his cries. He grips hold of the cowl of Dan’s costume and pushes it back brutally, unmasking him.

“That’s enough.” Adrian says, blue eyes flinty. “You can try to fight me, Dan, but I think we both know what you’re afraid of. I did it, didn’t I? I helped you find who you _really_ were again, after the Keene Act took it away from you. I gave you _purpose_ , Dan, when you had none. I helped you remake your entire self after you thought there was a mask killer. Don’t you remember how it felt? The exhilaration of chasing down leads and cleansing the streets of gangs who got in your way? Everything you’ve found again, I’ve led you to. Even now, when you struggle to find something to rage against, the act of keeping my secret from the world draws you back to me.”

“Liar!!” Dan’s shout echoes distantly down the tunnel, disappearing into the darkness. He struggles again and Adrian slaps him hard across his face, just the once. The threat is enough, but it doesn’t shut him up. “You’re a madman, you know that? You can’t just play God with people’s lives and expect them to be grateful to you because of it!”

“Would you rather have died with the rest, then?” Adrian raises a perfect eyebrow. “Would you have given up your life if you knew what was going to happen, tried to save as many people as you could? Who would listen? Or was the choice of leaving you in ignorance a more appropriate one for your mental well-being?”

Dan doesn’t say anything, because he can’t give Adrian an honest answer. Adrian sees the hesitation in his eyes, and scenting victory, dips his head and kisses Dan, fingers slipping loosely around his neck.

It wasn’t what Dan was expecting. Apart from anything else Adrian’s never really seemed the type to be one for such an intimate gesture, since he’s always made it seem as though he was above such things, more concerned with the plight of mankind than actually indulging in anything more than one night affairs, as easily discarded as they were picked up. But he kisses Dan so softly, like he is sharing a dearly-held secret, that Dan’s already confused senses shut down, too dazzled by everything that’s just happened. Before he realises what he is doing, Dan is relaxing into the kiss, allowing Adrian’s insistent tongue to push into his mouth and slide against his.

Then Adrian pulls back, and Dan’s eyes widen as the full weight of what has just happened — what he’s allowed himself to do — hits him. He stares back at Adrian, aghast, and tries to tackle him to the ground, managing to catch him around the waist, but Adrian pivots on his foot and throws Dan back up against the wall, his elbow pressing against Dan’s throat.

“It seems like somebody has trouble admitting to his desires.” He snarls, pushing his weight onto his elbow until Dan stops squirming, choked by the pressure on his neck. “Why must you fight me like this? Don’t you see how much easier it would be if you just gave in, Dan?”

“You’re a fucking monster!” Dan manages, the words somehow lacking the proper venom.

Adrian regards him silently, then slides his other hand down Dan’s back, rounding the curve of Dan’s ass and, despite himself, Dan feels his body begin to respond to the touch.

“Don’t you see,” Adrian is saying, as he feels for the catches and hidden zips in Dan’s suit and begins to pull off each section of his costume. The cape falls first, then each gauntlet and armoured sleeve, then the cowl and mask. And finally, Adrian tugs on the main zipper protecting what’s left of Dan’s modesty. “That I’m doing this for your own good?”

He pulls it down and Dan tries to escape again, but Adrian clicks his tongue. “If I have to incapacitate you, Dan, it won’t be fun for either of us.”

Dan wonders if keeping his dignity intact is worth the inevitable bruises and concussion. So he tries another tactic.

“Adrian, please. I _don’t want this_. Please. I can’t… Just let me go, huh?”

“You’re lying,” Adrian counters easily, and pushes down the last pieces of his suit that cover Dan’s legs, completing his disrobing. “And appealing to my compassion won’t help you now.”

Deprived of his costume and goggles, Dan stands in front of Adrian, naked and humiliated. The fight has gone out of him and he sucks a breath in as Adrian steps away and fixes him with a calculating look.

“Feelings of shame are natural,” Adrian tells Dan, “if one is not used to being naked in front of others.”

Dan thinks of that fateful night with Laurie, when he had stood in this basement naked, under very different circumstances. He opens his mouth to say something, but Adrian does something even more surprising. He kneels in front of Dan, touches the other man’s cock gently, runs a finger down its length. Looks back up at Dan.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he says evenly. And, even as Dan watches, he takes the tip of Dan’s cock into his mouth, his hand enveloping Dan in its gloved embrace, his tongue flicking against the head.

It’s _wrong_. It’s grotesque and Dan is sure he can hear Rorschach’s howl of outrage in his head, and see the sea of bodies Adrian is responsible for, but he finds himself groaning instead as Adrian slowly licks and sucks him to full hardness. He tries to push away, but Adrian’s other hand grabs hold of his upper thigh, long fingers digging into the soft flesh there, anchoring him in place. Then Adrian’s tongue is tracing the vein on the underside of Dan’s cock and Dan throws his head back, gasps a curse to the ceiling, feeling his arousal and repulsion war for dominance.

“I don’t…” He takes a deep breath and tries again. “I don’t want…”

He doesn’t want this; he hates that Adrian Veidt is on the ground right now, sucking his cock and he hates that he’s been forced into the situation, which seems like a cruel mockery of their earlier friendship. But most of all, Dan hates the fact that he’s loving the way Adrian is sucking him off like a pro. And he hates he doesn’t actually want Adrian to stop.

Adrian’s hand releases its grip on his thigh now, strokes a slow path to Dan’s ass, and Dan tries to jerk away as a finger runs down between his cheeks, searching for his asshole. His mouth forms the word ‘no’, but no sound comes out because Adrian’s gloved finger is pushing into him, and it feels amazing; the ridges on Adrian’s glove are hitting the most perfect spots inside him. He feels another finger join the first, opening him up and Dan nearly howls with shock and mingled pleasure as the fingers press upwards, brushing teasingly against his prostate. Adrian’s tongue is lapping at the head of Dan’s cock, and the hand he has around Dan’s erection is drawing out the beginnings of an intense orgasm. Dan is horrified at the way he wants more of this, tells himself he should feel sick because what Adrian is doing is raping him with those long elegant fingers inside him and that mouth making him almost dizzy with pleasure. He tells himself it’s just the delirium from his lack of sleep. That he’s acting like this because he’s not himself.

But when Adrian stops suddenly pulls both fingers and mouth away, Dan only just manages to stop the whimper rising in his throat.

“Do you want more?” Adrian asks, his voice sounding unnaturally loud in the stillness of the basement. “Or should I leave now, so you can pretend I was never here?”

Dan makes a choked sounding noise. Tries to remember what the right thing to do is. But Adrian between his legs, looking up at him with his lips bruised red and his carefully arranged hair mussed and falling in his face triggers some dark, hidden desire he didn’t even know he was suppressing.

“Dan? Do you want me to stop?” Adrian’s hand is still massaging Dan’s ass, digging in just that little bit to make it distracting.

“No.” He answers. It is the barest whisper, more like a sigh. “No.”

“I can’t hear you.”

“No! All right? No!!” Dan’s resolve finally snaps, much to his horror. “Don’t… I don’t want…”

“Say it, Dan.” Adrian stands now, presses a hand against his mouth, wiping away Dan’s pre-come.

“I… I don’t…” Dan closes his eyes, feels Adrian move to stand in front of him again. Hates himself for doing this and betraying the memory of Rorschach and everything they fought to save. “Don’t go, Adrian.”

“Look at me,” Adrian says, grasping hold of Dan’s chin, forcing their gazes to meet. “Say it.”

“I want…” Dan’s voice falters again. “I want you to… stay, Adrian.”

Adrian’s smile is tight. “Good.”

He pushes Dan up the stairs, and Dan flinches as cold air hits his bare skin, but they don’t go very far. Adrian finds his worktable and clears it with a sweep of his hand, sending piles of papers and pencils to the ground. Dan’s been working on a grappling gun based on the one he built for Rorschach originally, but he’s not gotten past the drawing stage and the plans are still on the desk. Adrian raises an appreciative eyebrow and sets the blueprints aside before pushing Dan onto the table roughly, shedding his own costume section by section, though he leaves the crown-like headband on. He is impossibly perfect in the half-light, his body looking like it’s been sculpted out of marble, his straining erection the only proof that Adrian is, in fact, human.

“Look at me,” he says, his voice soft and commanding, and Dan squints at his blurry outline. Fingers run through his hair and twist hard, almost painfully, and Dan moans involuntarily as Adrian grips his knee and pushes his legs apart. He spits in his hand twice and strokes himself, then presses the tip of his cock against Dan’s ass. “I can save you, Dan; I can help you rebuild yourself and make sense of this world, or leave you here to waste away in your denial, but you have to choose. Last chance; tell me you want it, or tell me to go.”

Dan hates Adrian for doing this; for forcefully seducing him in his own home, and then acting like the honourable party in this, offering him a way out.

He won’t meet Adrian’s eyes. “I want it.”

“Say it louder.”

“Fuck, Adrian. I want _you_!” Dan chokes, despising everything he’s become. His cock is painfully hard and as Adrian slides in, he exhales shakily, simultaneously loving and hating the way Adrian’s cock is filling him up and how it feels to finally surrender.

For his part, Adrian is quiet as he sinks himself almost all the way into Dan, then pulls back and rolls his hips forward again, one hand still in Dan’s hair, the other holding onto Dan’s hip. He bites his lip and it is the only sign Dan gets that Adrian is enjoying this. Adrian’s thrusts are deep and precise, each one hitting the perfect spot inside Dan and making him cry out in wordless pleasure. The world around them sharpens, then contracts, and Dan is only aware of Adrian above him, inside him, driving him half-mad with desire.

He tries to remember to that he hates Adrian, that Adrian has the blood of so many innocents on his hands, that Adrian has played with his feelings and toyed with his life as if Dan was nothing more than one of his mass-produced plastic action figures, but it’s getting more and more difficult as Adrian begins to fuck him faster, his movements shorter and more explosive, but never out of control. And it scares Dan; his sudden desperate need for Adrian to make him come is frightening in its intensity. Perhaps, he thinks, as Adrian catches his lips in another kiss that is confusing in its tenderness, this is what going mad feels like.

The workbench is creaking with the force of their fucking and Dan wants to reach out, to stroke Adrian’s pale skin that shines in the dim light, to try and provoke some kind of reaction from him. But Adrian growls, and tightens the hand in Dan’s hair.

“Don’t,” he warns, his voice tight with the tension of keeping himself under control. Dan shivers as Adrian shifts the angle of his hips and thrusts in more brutally. “Don’t mistake this for affection, Dan. I know you loathe me.”

“And -” Dan is struggling now to form any kind of coherent thought. “And what about you, Adrian?”

“I have no need for such emotions,” Adrian says, refusing to meet Dan’s eyes for once. Then he arches his back and drives into Dan one final time, the hand holding onto Dan’s hip pushing down with almost painful force. A long, drawn-out breath the only sound he makes as he comes.

There is a pause, and then he slides a hand down, still buried balls-deep in Dan, takes hold of Dan’s cock. By this time Dan’s pupils are blown and his breathing is shallow and coming in gasps; he’s been taken so close to the edge it only takes a two or three pumps of Adrian’s fist before he is coming all over Adrian’s hand and his stomach, fingers grasping uselessly at Adrian’s forearms.

Adrian allows him to catch his breath, then pulls out, reaches over and wipes Dan’s semen off his hand with a spare bit of paper. He begins to draw on each piece of his costume again, buckling gauntlets and shin-guards back into place before re-attaching the purple cape. He touches his hair to make sure that it is in place and pulls on his gloves. Dan watches him quietly all the while, still trying to comprehend what just happened, and what the consequences will be.

“This has been a most productive evening, Daniel,” Adrian observes, as if they’ve just been finished having dinner together instead of fucking. He wrinkles his nose as he stares down at Dan. The basement stinks of sex and jet fuel. “But I think you should come over to my office one night. There is still obviously much more to discuss.”

He leans forward, dips a single finger in the spatters of come still smeared on Dan’s belly and sucks at it. “I’ll look forward to seeing you again. I care about all my reconstruction projects, after all. And you are a most precious one.”

In a swirl of cape, he is gone. Dan picks himself up, almost mechanically and retrieves his costume, moving in slow, jerky movements. He feels violated and, at the same time, strangely sated. His joints ache pleasantly and for the first time in much too long, the tension in his chest has lifted.

Dan sleeps like the dead that night, and only wakes up when the sun is pouring through his windows. He wonders for a moment if what happened was just a fevered dream, brought on by sleep deprivation. Then he looks at the bruise Adrian left on his hip, can feel the ache in his muscles, and remembers everything. Instead of feeling sick, he is strangely uplifted and ready for the challenges of another day as plain old Daniel Dreiberg.

He stares at his hands. They aren’t shaking.

He doesn’t understand why.


End file.
